


Persistent Reminders

by OokamiNoShippitsu



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OokamiNoShippitsu/pseuds/OokamiNoShippitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Munakata Reisi can't seem to move on from Suoh Mikoto's death. There are just too many reminders, too many things that bring up the past, and too many things that just... won't… leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persistent Reminders

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, this is my first fanfiction, and it was originally posted on fanfiction.net (my name is the same). I appreciate any helpful criticism and I really hope you enjoy!  
> (Oh and I refuse to type Reishi. To me it's Reisi. I don't know why.)

Munakata Reisi was seated on his bed. He had come straight from work. He hadn’t even turned on the lights. Reisi adjusted his glasses and thoughtfully regarded the packet of cigarettes on his bedside table. Flashes of memory assaulted him: a smirk that didn’t quite reach the eyes; a stubborn determination to bring a killer to justice; an apathetic toleration of admiration and contempt alike; a swaggering confidence that comes across as dangerous; the falling of the Red King’s Sword of Damocles. Reisi clutched his head with a sudden intake of breath as a splintering headache momentarily blinded him.

_Why can’t I forget?_

Reisi had known that he would have been the one to do it. Only kings can kill kings. It had been his duty. If he had let the Sword of Damocles fall, many more lives would have been lost. He had felt that he was the only one who could give Mikoto peace, but was that at the cost of his own? Frustrated, Reisi shook his head and rose to his feet. He shrugged off his blue coat and walked over to his bedroom window which overlooked the city.

_Could I have saved him?_

Reisi snorted. That man had blasted his way out of confinement. He hadn’t wanted to be saved. The Red King was not a damsel in distress. He had been so focused on finding the Colourless King that he hadn’t cared that he was near to death. Well, he had always been reckless, especially with his power.

“That idiot,” Reisi muttered.

“Oi, that’s not a very nice thing to say, Munakata,” a voice drawled behind him.

Instead of being surprised, Reisi sighed, “Don’t you have anything better to do than eavesdrop on me?”

“Hmf, and I thought my presence would be appreciated.”

Reisi turned, “It’s precisely your _presence_ that has been bothering me night after night.”

Suoh Mikoto lazily sprawled on the sofa with his hands in his pockets. His mouth was drawn up into a characteristic smirk and his amber eyes focused unerringly on Reisi. Something was missing, though.

He glanced at the box of cigarettes and heard Mikoto chuckle.

“Munakata, you know I can’t smoke.”

“I never thought I’d ever hear Suoh Mikoto say such a thing.”

Mikoto shrugged and said drily, “I’m trying to look after my health.”

Reisi just looked at him.

“What? Too soon? Get over it, Munakata. I’m dead. You killed me. Just forget it and move on.”

“Move on?” Reisi spat angrily. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

Mikoto tilted his head to the side and a strand of his red hair fell across his eyes. Eyes that stared unwaveringly at the Blue King until even he began to feel uncomfortable. He turned away towards the window once again and tried to assert himself again by folding his arms.

Mikoto huffed and said quietly, “It’s okay, you know. I knew it was going to happen. We both did.”

“Why couldn’t you have just let me protect you, you fool?”

Mikoto huffed again. “Oi, Munakata, you should have known better than anyone that I would never have just left things as they were. That bastard killed Totsuka. I couldn’t just let that slide. You know that. You know-”

Reisi slammed his fist onto the wall alongside the window, “Shut up.”

To his surprise, Mikoto fell silent. Reisi’s gaze hadn’t left the cityscape. He watched people walk and cross busy streets flashing with lights. Suddenly, the lights, the people, and the buildings blurred. He raised a hand to his face in surprise. His fingers came away wet. He was crying. Dammit.

Mikoto now stood next to him, “Ne, Munakata, that’s not very manly is it?”

“Shut. Up. Suoh.”

“Make me.”

Reisi so wished he could. He wished he could punch this arrogant bastard in the face. He wished he could thrash him for being dead. H wished he could hold him. But their last contact had been of blood staining Reisi’s hand and whispered final words in his ear. After the years of friendship and rivalry, all Reisi had in the end was a cruel mockery of an embrace as he had killed Suoh Mikoto.

“Just leave me alone, you damned ghost.”

“That all depends on you, Munakata. If you wanted me gone then I wouldn’t be here.”

“Fine, you’re right. I want the same cocky bastard back, but all I have is you bothering me every single night instead of the real Suoh. You’re just the ghost- the memory- of the king that I…that I…” Reisi seemed to be choking on his own words.

“That you what, Munakata?” Mikoto’s face was so calm. So still. The apathy previously occupying those amber eyes had disappeared with all the emotion in his voice.

“That’s none of your business, Suoh.”

Mikoto chuckled and smiled faintly, “Whatever.”

He then turned and walked towards the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” Reisi demanded.

“That’s none of your business, Munakata,” Mikoto smirked. Then, the apparition of the Red King vanished.

Munakata was silent for a few moments and he then murmured softly, “Goodbye, old friend. You were the king that I…that I…” he paused.

He inhaled deeply, “Suoh Mikoto, you were the king, the man and the friend that I loved, and I’m going to miss you like hell but,” his voiced lowered, “you’re better off now,” he remembered the cigarettes and laughed quietly, “now that you can’t smoke.”

Munakata Reisi then picked up the box. He threw out each cigarette except for one. This one he lit and smoked in memory of Suoh Mikoto. The king, the man, the leader, the friend, that he loved but now had finally let go of, but would never forget.


End file.
